A Little Surprise
by geeklover89
Summary: Series of one-shots on the many secrets Stiles could have. Some will be interconnected. Chap 7: Raven, someone has wings.
1. Vampire

Stiles couldn't believe he was about to do this.

He had promised his mother years ago, before she died, that he would never do anything to endanger either his father or himself, yet here he was in a closed animal clinic with a dying werewolf about to expose his greatest secret. A werewolf, he might add, that would gladly rip his head off with a smile.

He had not even told Scott about his 'special condition.'

"Dammit!" the teen spat under his breath as he sat said werewolf down on the floor.

Crouching down beside the injured teen Stiles grabbed first the wolf's bicep, just above the black tendrils that had been blossoming from the wound for the past several hours, then his forearm, again just past the newly blackened veins. Derek hissed in pain whipping his head around to growl menacingly at the offender.

"Stiles?" he snarled as he moved to wrench his arm away, "let go of my arm." He growled again when his arm didn't budge and the younger teen held on tighter, "Stiles!"

"Derek, shut up and listen to me."

The boy's voice shocked Derek into silence. If it was an order from any other human (or even Stiles's normal stuttering attempts to be butch) Derek would have snapped their neck right then and there for sheer disrespect, but something about the way the normally soft hearted boy's voice hissed tightly out of his mouth had made the older teen still.

Stiles had yet to take his eyes off the blackened bullet hole. He tightened his grip on the wolf's arm ignoring another hiss of pain. Taking a deep breath in through his nose Stiles allowed his control to slip very slowly. Closing his eyes he addressed Derek, "I can get the poison out, but I need you to do two things for me."

Derek, who had been watching in suspicion as the other boy's hands gripped his arm with a strength he thought impossible of a human, jerked violently as a sudden and overpowering smell caught his nose. His body put two and two together faster than his brain as he tried to rip his damaged arm away from the crouching boy next to him.

_No,_ he thought, a wave a fear falling over him as he thrashed violently against his prison, _not a boy. How could I have missed it?_

But Stiles wouldn't let go.

His hands clenched tighter around the wound.

Derek couldn't stop the whimper that fell from his lips.

"Do you want to die Derek?" Stiles hadn't opened his eyes, but the wolf stilling beneath his hands was enough of an answer for him. Stiles took another breath when he was sure that his captive wouldn't move again. Another bit of his control slipped.

Stiles could now hear the excited thumping of Derek's heart. He could smell the desperation of needing to get away tinged with a slight hint of fear that he wouldn't be able to. More importantly though, he could feel, underneath his fingertips, where the blood from Derek's heart slowed as it forced its way through the poisoned veins.

He felt his excitement jump.

Pulling Derek's arm closer to his body, Stiles allowed his knees to take his weight so that he was no longer crouching. Flattening that arm in front of him like some macabre turkey dinner Stiles opened his eyes.

Ah…there it was.

Rivers of red ran back and forth through lightly tanned channels. With every beat of the wolf's heart the rivers sped up for a second before slowing down sending wave after wave of those precious oxygen giving cells down the channel only to have it stopped at the dame creating by Stiles's hand. Said boy licked his lips at the sight and allowed his eyes to follow the river upstream. It always amazed Stiles how intricate the human body actually was. Layers and layers of muscle, tissue, nerves and veins were used to make the most advanced machine ever known to man.

And yet.

Stiles furrowed his bow as the river began to turn black and sluggish.

So easy to destroy.

Derek cleared his throat uneasily. There were very few things he was afraid of and considering what he was this really came as no surprise to anyone who knew him. But every predator is pray to something. And let's just say that Derek know knew what it felt like to be the deer caught in a trap of impending death.

"Did you need something Derek, or did you just have a hairball logged in your throat?"

Derek swallowed thickly, cleared his throat, and tried again hating the fact that he couldn't keep the shake out of his voice, "What two things?" he cringed as he fought to remain as calm as possible. It wasn't working.

A slow, oddly sensual smile that did _not_ belong on the teens face made its presence known as the boy bent his head down closer to the overly warm skin. Peaking his tongue out he gently licked the bullet wound relishing in the salty copper taste that danced on his taste buds. He was brought back to reality by a sudden harsh bite of something that burned like fire on his exposed tongue. Stiles wrinkled his nose before finally turning his eyes to Derek. The younger teen smirked at the barely visible flinch given by the wolf as he tried to back farther away.

_If Derek had ears right now they'd be lying flat against his head right now_

Stiles took another breath.

"I will try not to hurt you, but it has been a long time since I have taken blood from a warm body, and this will be the first that I have done so from a werewolf," Stiles paused as though waiting for Derek to nod or show some sign that he had heard him. Derek's heart skipped. "I don't know how I will be affected by your blood so if the time comes were I can't stop, I need you to do it for me."

This time Derek did nod. He also relaxed slightly.

When Stiles had looked at him Derek had been consumed with the natural instinct to run. Those eyes weren't Stiles's. Those eyes had no white. Those parts were blackened to the core; the pupils as red as any blood Derek himself had spilt. Those pupils spoke with an ancient hunger, older then even his own, that desperately needed to be filled.

And yet, the concern and determination that had shown through could be none other than the boy's own.

He had control over his beast.

Even more so than Derek.

It was Derek's turn to take a breath as he forced himself to relax further, "And two?"

Stiles black and red eyes stared at him for a second before he spoke, his voice becoming deadly serious, "Don't tell Scott."

Then his lips peeled back as his canines extended. Gripping the arm beneath him tighter he whipped his head around and sank them deep into the werewolf's flesh.

Derek's laugh at the boy's request ended in a yelp of pain.

As suddenly as it came though, the pain receded.

It was replaced a pair of warm silken lips as they formed an airtight seal around his wound. He blinked down at the buzzed head in a strange awe inspired trance.

All trace of fear were gone in an instant.

He felt like a curious puppy as he watched as the boy he thought he knew sucked the tendrils of poison out of his body, occasionally swallowing when his mouth got to full.

The smell, which at first had been unpleasant and fowl was no longer so. A soft aroma of musk and oak, which in his over excited state he had confused for death, settled gently in his nose with a new memory of dusty tomes and wilderness. Stiles emitted a certain power that reminded Derek of when he used to watch his sister hunt. So violent and animalistic yet graceful and not all together unappealing. His eyes wondered to his poisoned arm. He blinked in surprise to see how far healthy his arm looked.

His body, sensing that the poison was finally being eradicated from his system, had begun to finally heal itself. Where the skin had once been gray and sickly looking, color was starting to return. The mind numbing weakness was turning into strength and causing his arm to flex a little under the ministrations the vampire lips were giving him.

Now that his fear was under control the wolf had decided to investigate.

Stiles jerked on the arm as Derek's muscle rippled under his mouth almost dislodging himself, but he gripped tighter forcing himself to hang on. He wanted to throw up. Even though he would not die from the wolfs bane, it still burned his mouth and throat as it went down. Tears sprang to his eyes as he forced another mouthful down.

"Stiles?"

The concerned tone in Derek's voice went unnoticed by the teen vampire as he dutifully continued his task. Also going unnoticed to him was the small moan of pain that escaped his throat as yet more wolfs bane was forced down.

He didn't feel the hand that rested hesitantly on his head and gently began to stroke his hair.

Finally, with one last giant gulp, Stiles tore his face from Derek's arm, shot up off the floor, and retched into the washtub basin.


	2. Vampire Part 2

Derek heard the retching before his brain even registered that Stiles had moved. The second it did though he jumped to his feet and rushed over to the sick teen. At least that what he had planned to do. Once his feet hit the floor however a wave of dizziness crashed over him and he swayed violently, his body rebeling against the sudden movement so soon after such a substantial amount of pain and blood loss. Shooting out his hand he gripped the examination table to hold himself steady.

Another horrible retching noise filled the small space.

Shaking the dizziness off Derek covered the length of the room in two strides. When he reached the basin he couldn't help but look. What he saw made him cringe. Black sludge covered the bottom of the metal container were there should have been blood. Derek cringed again at the thought that that had come from his own body first. Placing his hand on the boys back he began to gently rub circles between the shoulder blades.

"Stiles?"

The boy answered by retching again. This time nothing came up.

"Stiles, you okay?"

Stiles spit one last time before straightening. Running the back of his sleeve across his mouth he smiled, but he didn't look at the wolf. "Why Derek Hale, are you worried about me?" his words were light, but there was a tightness in his voice that only the werewolves superior hearing could detect.

Damn, the boy was an impressive actor.

Derek swallowed, "I don't know much about vampires so I don't know what to do, but—" he stopped when Stiles laughed softly.

Derek growled slightly in annoyance. His emotions were so torn, what with finding out that Stiles was a vampire, almost dying, and the wolf at the edge of his conscious torn between simultaneously wanting to run away from and comfort the boy. He wasn't used to feeling so much at once. And Stiles's laughter grated him.

Stiles turned to face him, his eyes looked strangely desperate and a strained smile on his face, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh, it is just a little funny seeing our roles reversed like this." Suddenly his body seemed to deflate a little and he took a step back. "I need to feed."

Taking another step back Stiles pulled himself away from Derek's hand, "I need to feed." he said again.

Lowering his newly abandoned hand Derek let his eyes traveled up and down the boy in front of him. His whole frame was shaking and his eyes were glazing over. Stiles backed up again.

"Stiles?"

"I need you to leave."

This time it was Derek who took a half step back, "Your blood lust is taking over isn't it?"

There was an audible crash of metal on metal as Stiles's back hit the medicine cabinet. All around them animals started screaming. Dogs began howling and barking and cats hissed as they strained to get out of their cages, "Please Derek, please leave." He began to curl in on himself trying to get as far away from the werewolf as possible, "I don't want to hurt you, Derek please."

Stiles voice had taken on a soft pleading quality.

The howling got louder.

Derek knew he had to get Stiles out of here quickly, if for nothing else then to not get caught by the police if they decided to show up, if he didn't there was a good chance that Stiles would hurt him, or vice versa. But he couldn't help but be fascinated by it. Here was a boy who, when they had met, had practically fallen over himself trying to get away from the werewolf and had cringed and stuttered in fear every time Derek had threatened him; now however…

The screaming of the animals got louder.

Suddenly an inhuman roar tore through the clinic. A shiver shot down Derek's spine as the sound echoed through the empty clinic filling it so completely that the walls seemed to vibrate.

With a movement faster than anything Derek had ever seen before Stiles rushed past Derek, out the door, and into the holding room. There was a screech of metal followed by a loud crack and an even louder yelping noise. Derek didn't need to go into the next room to know what was going on. He also knew better then to interrupt. So he waited.

Keeping his ears open while simultaneously trying to ignore the sound of Stiles ripping the animal cages apart was not an easy task, but after years of helping his family on the hunt he knew how to block out the sounds of feeding. This wasn't a member of his family though. It was a strange and, truth be told, very off putting to know that it was Stiles of all people doing the hunting.

He just hoped that…

_Dammit_

His ears twitched.

Coming through the open storage door, though many miles off, the tell-tale wailing of sirens. A hand gripped his wrist.

"I think it's time to go don't you?"

Before Derek could protest he felt himself being pulled out of the clinic and to the other boy's jeep. The sirens were getting louder. His brain finally catching up he wrenched his wrist out of Stiles' hand and got into the passenger side; Stiles right behind him. Throwing the jeep into gear Stiles tore out of the clinic parking lot and shot off down the road.

Derek was silently impressed at how fast the old, beat up jeep could actually go.

They were quiet as Stiles drove; said boy carefully breathing in and out, Derek watching him out of the corner of his eye.

They drove for a long time. Much longer then it would have taken, especially given the speed they were traveling, to get to either Derek's house or Stiles'. Neither Derek mentioned it nor Stiles explained it, but eventually after nearly three hours of driving the jeep pulled off the road and down an old dirt path. Another thirty minutes passed before the trees cleared. A beautiful double story house sat nestled in the trees next to a glossy black lake; the moon reflecting lazily off its surface like a pearl settled comfortably in the folds of velvet. Again Stiles offered no explanation as he pulled the jeep up next to the house.

Getting out of the jeep and making his way over to the lake Stiles didn't even slow down as he walked right into the lake.

Derek could only blink as Stiles disappeared into the black folds of the lake.

He was still in the jeep.

Getting out Derek followed Stiles' path down to the lake and watched as the buzzed head came back to the surface. Stiles turned gracefully in the water. From the shore Derek could see a smile stretch over his features. His eyes were still black, but the irises were no longer a bright, blood red. Instead they were a softer, more diluted, almost pinkish red. The moonlight glittered off his fangs.

Stiles swan back to the shore. Walking out of the lake and up to Derek he smiled sheepishly, "Sorry about that," he motioned toward the lake, "It's just a little ritual I have whenever I'm forced to take a live no matter how small."

Derek nodded, but said nothing.

"Care to join me?"

Again Derek said nothing.

Stiles' smile faded and he sighed deeply, "Derek, please, can we not do this right now? I promise I will explain everything to you, but please not right now."

Derek searched Stiles' face for a moment. He wanted nothing more than for Stiles to tell him everything, for Stiles to open up to him, but…at the same time…he didn't.

So he nodded.

The smile came back as Stiles grabbed his hand.

Once again he found himself being pulled along behind the teen vampire and as the water closed around his body and the feel of Stiles' fingers interlacing with his, he couldn't help but feel he had made the right decision.

But he would be damned if he wasn't going to get answers in the morning.


	3. Aaron

**Okay, so in this one Stiles is preggers.**

**Warning: mentions of rape (which, if I get 5 reviews, will be explained in its own one-shot)**

**Please people, I need reviews!**

* * *

><p>Stiles had never told anyone.<p>

Not even his father knew.

At first he had been too ashamed.

Now he just didn't know how to say it.

How does one exactly go about saying they were pregnant? Especially if you are a boy. A sixteen year old boy.

Mr. Harris was talking about something or other but Stiles tuned him out in favor of running his hand over his stomach. He could feel the slightly hard bump under the soft flesh.

Three months.

It was hard to believe how something so precious could come out of something so ugly.

Something twitched under his hand.

As Mr. Harris made a pass by his desk forcing him to bring his mind back to his teacher Stiles couldn't keep a slight smile from his lips.

His baby. His little baby boy all sung and warm inside of him, it was enough to drive that man out of his mind. Not that he really had to deal with that bastard anymore. For the first time since that day three month ago, when he had somehow managed to stumble his way home and into his father's arms, he felt truly safe. Being from a small town it didn't take long for word to get around. Stiles had been terrified that once word go around he would be ostracized, looked down upon with disgust and contempt; never in a million years did he expect what would really happen.

Literally over night the entire town of Beacon Hills had rallied together to find the scumbag that had not only hurt one of their own, but the most innocent of their own.

Scott hadn't left his bed side the entire time, leaving the room only to go to the bathroom and occasionally for food that didn't taste like burnt rubber. His mom eventually would force him to go home to take a shower. It was on these occasions that Derek would come to visit, granted he usually waited until Stiles was asleep, but the young teen always knew when he was there. He had even woken up one night to soft lips on his forehead and a promise that the man who had hurt him would die slowly.

It was the first time he has felt like it would be okay.

The bell rang signaling the end of class and Stiles made his way to Scott's locker. As he made his way down the hall the once outgoing teen kept his eyes open and his head down with his arms wrapped tightly around his body. He knew it was irrational, after all, he was safe here, but…he had a baby to think about now, he couldn't let anything happen to him.

He didn't need to look up as he walked. The first day he had been back he had accidentally bumped into Danny. The flood of memories that had triggered had given him a panic attack so bad that he stopped breathing and had to be rushed back to the hospital.

The only thing he remembered was fear, black, and then warmth. It was the first time he had awakened in Derek's arms.

And hopefully not the last.

Walking up behind Scott was easier than it should have been.

As much as he loved his best friend it really had never failed to amaze him just how awful his friend was at being a werewolf. He still had no idea about his friend, but the fact that he was three months into a pregnancy that should not have been possible and the young beta still didn't even suspect anything was just sad. Even Jackson was throwing him curious glances, and he wasn't even a freaking wolf. Although, that might have been because the jock had taken it upon himself to be Stiles' personal bodyguard. Or he was just looking out to see if Stiles had another meltdown.

For the sake of his sanity Stiles was inclined to believe the latter.

Another twitch, this time harder, made his stomach lurch.

Stiles frowned tightening his arms around the bulge under his shirt.

"Hey man, you okay?" Stiles shook his head or worry, lifted it, and smiled at Scott…and Allison. He internally sighed.

Ever since the two had gotten together they had been all over each other, but ever since Allison found out about her beau…well let's just say that they might actually be fused at the hip like most people thought. Not that he was as upset by it now like he was then. She had used all of her father's resources to track down the bastard who had hurt him. Of course when they found him his body was already beyond recognizable, but it was the thought that counted.

"Stiles?"

Again the pale boy shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Ya, Scott I'm fine." He tried to reassure his friend, "I'm just thinking."

Scott seemed placated and the subject was immediately changed as they headed into lunch.

It was about half way through his burger and fries that Stiles felt a painful wrenching in his gut. Both of his hands flew to his stomach. The bump shifted. Stiles was out of his seat and down the hall before either Allison or Scott could ask what was wrong. Stumbling through the nearest door, which just so happened to lead into the boys locker room, Stiles suddenly felt a great heave followed by the most excruciating pain he had ever felt. All at once something hard and wet rushed out of him.

For a moment all he could do was blink, not fully comprehending what had just happened. No, no it wasn't possible. No. Nononononono. There had been no warning. He had been to see the doctor just yesterday, everything had been fine.

Shaking violently Stiles took a chocked breath and forced himself to look down. What he saw unleashed the dams behind his eyes. Once blue denim jeans were now stained a bright, mocking red that went all the way down the inner part of his legs to his ankles. And there, right in the middle of his right leg, was a small unmoving bulge.

The normally vocal teen couldn't speak even if he wanted to. He just stood there shaking. His couldn't tear his eyes away. There was so much blood.

It was getting on the floor.

Brown eyes blinked the fog away. That wouldn't do, he had to clean up. He didn't want to get into trouble.

In a stunned haze Stiles slid his way along the lockers, a trail of red dripping from the hem of his pants. Making his way into the shower Stiles carefully undid his pants. Maneuvering them off was a nightmare but eventually he was standing there in his underwear, his pants he kept bundled up in his arms. Once he was sure the bundle was safe in his arms he walked underneath the shower head, turned on the water, and sat down cross-legged on the ground.

That was how Derek found him many hours later.

Scott had called him in a panic around three saying that Stiles had run out of lunch and now he couldn't find him. Derek didn't know what to expect. Ever since the young teen had been hurt Derek had watched over him. He would never tell anyone, but he care about Stiles and it had killed him to see the vibrant, outgoing ball of energy reduced to nothing more than a flicker of its former self. Derek had trie to be there for him. He would come to visit his bed side each night; when he was released he perched on the window outside his room, he even stuck a GPS tracker in the boy's car and phone so that when he was at work he could check in.

He never wanted to fail the teen again.

Which is why he had left his job and all but sped to the school. At first he had been annoyed, thinking that Stiles was in the library doing some new werewolf research or confirming and out of control ADD raddled thought, but this…

The older teen watched as the younger rocked gently back and forth. He was naked from the waist down and from Derek's position he could see the young boy cradling what looked like his jeans to his chest. Tears mingled with the shower spray. He hadn't noticed the Alpha yet.

"Stiles?"

The rocking stopped. Turning his head Stiles' eyes seemed to skate right over the Alpha. The chocolate orbs looked red and puffy.

Derek's throat closed up and his voice stuck. Something horrible had happened. Clearing it he called to the younger boy again. This time Stiles seemed to hear him. An odd smile spread across his face, one that did not reach his haunted eyes.

"Derek," he moved to hold the sopping bundle out to him, "come meet my baby."

Moving toward the boy like he would a caged animal Derek carefully knelt in front Stiles and took the bundle from him. The smell of blood and death seeped into his nose.

"His name is Aaron." Stiles said wistfully.

Derek swallowed thickly. He hadn't known.

"That…that's a beautiful name Sty."

"I want him to be like you when he grows up."

Derek nodded pulling the small body close.

A soft breath of a laugh escaped Stiles' mouth, "I don't know how good I will be at raising a kid. I can barely remember what day it is half the time, but I don't want him to be like his father." He shuddered slightly before laughing again, "I am going to need so much help." His head tilts to the side, "Will you help me Derek?"

Again Derek nodded, his voice quiet as he whispered, "Ya Stiles, I will."


	4. Love Me

**So this is basically about Stiles needing comfort.**

**Has a slight tie in with **_**Aaron**_** and obviously set slightly before it.**

**Sorry Stiles, I promise you will be happy soon.**

Peter Hale raised his head as the door to his room opened expecting to see Derek.

Ever since that day his nephew had broken down at his feet crying his eyes out, blaming himself for what happened, the Alpha had slowly receded from his mind. His mind slowly came back to him and for the first time in six years he turned his head to look at the young beta. Derek's head had been resting on Peter's knee, tears soaking the inseam. Moving his arm after years of disuse was beyond difficult even with his werewolf abilities finally starting to heal him, but eventually, albeit slowly, he had raised his hand from off his wheelchair and placed it on his nephew's head. Derek had nearly had a heart attack when long fingers began to card through his hair.

Derek had come back every day since then.

They talked about everything, shared their grief. They shared memories both happy and sad and Derek told Peter all that had happened since the fire. The older werewolf couldn't believe how different everything was. Laura had been killed by hunters only a few months before. That made his heart wrench, although he felt a little better knowing that she didn't die in vain. She had taken Kate Argent down with her.

As much as Laura's death had caused him grief, Derek caused him more.

It took him a long time to convince Derek that he was not responsible for the fire, that it was _that woman's_ fault, but there was nothing he could do to ease the guilt from the young man's shoulders.

Eventually he decided to let the subject rest. Instead he focused on something almost as important: his new pack. From what he could gather the new pack consisted of two other wolves, both turned, and four humans. Peter had been surprised to find out about the two turned wolves. He didn't think that Derek would ever risk trying to turn one person let alone two. Since he was only a Beta his bite only had a fifty-fifty shot of taking. It was the reason why most Beta's or Omega's went to their Alpha when they wanted a turning. The Alpha's bite had a hundred percent chance of working while the Beta's had fifty-fifty and Omega's had twenty-eighty.

Derek had explained his reasoning though.

Apparently the one named Scott had gotten hit by a stray hunter's bullet and the one name Jackson had provoked the newly turned young wolf into attacking him.

So really Derek had only turned one boy.

Apparently they were driving his nephew nuts though. Peter had never seen him so animated then when he was talking about them.

The humans of the pack seemed a little more stable. Danny was Jackson's friend and had been pretty quick to find out about what happened to his friend. He was strong and loyal and good with computers making him quite useful for surveillance. Allison, though the daughter of a hunter, had proven herself to be a worthy companion and willing to stand with them against the hunters while using their resources to aid the pack. Lydia seemed to be a good candidate for Alpha Female, not that Peter would ever take her, his had already loved and lost his own mate, but she would be good for when the Alpha-ship passed to Derek. Although she would probably drive him to insanity though.

Peter sat and listened and pondered his new pack and how they would take it when he finally took the Alpha. They all seemed capable. So far anyway. Derek had yet to mention the sixth member of his little rag-tag bunch, it seemed to be a painful subject for him, but Peter figured he would tell him when he visited today.

Which is why he was so surprised when he looked up to find, not Derek, but a young, slightly nervous looking boy with short cropped hair and the most beautiful brown eyes Peter had ever seen. The boy was wearing a pair of dark wash blue jeans and a simple gray sweatshirt. He stood there in the doorway shifting slightly from foot to foot as though he were afraid to come in; he licked his lips causing the Alpha to swallow thickly.

"Mr. Hale?" The boy's voice was shaking slightly, like he was struggling to keep a ball of tightly wound, pure energy inside his body. Peter realized he was staring.

Clearing his throat Peter placed a soft smile on his face, "That's me. Can I help you?"

The boy seemed to release some of the pent up energy. Taking two long strides he entered the room, knelt by Peter's wheelchair and took the elder's hand in his. Peter's eyes widened in concern, but before he could question this strange boy's appearance said boy began speaking, "My name is Stiles, I know it is a weird name, but it is not my real one, I just like to be called that," Peter blinked, Stiles continued, "I am a member of Derek's pack," here he paused, eyes turning sad for a second, "at least I think I am."

Peter was still trying to wrap his head around the young teen before him, but his stomach tightened when those beautiful eyes began to tear up. So this was the infamous missing pack mate.

Stiles shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts and turned his eyes back to Peter, "Derek doesn't really tell me anything, well actually _none_ of the pack tell me anything, I guess they really _do_ think I am useless, but I am the expert of eavesdropping and I overheard him telling the others that you were the true Alpha." Stiles tilted his head to the side in question. Peter nodded, his eyes narrowing in a frown, "I've been reading a lot about wolves and I happened to come across a really old text that says that an Alpha bite is one hundred percent effective in turning someone whose been bitten." Again Stiles waited for the older Hale to nod before continuing, "Well I want to be like you."

Peter's eyes nearly popped out of his head, "Have you spoken to Derek about this?"

Stiles snorted and all at once his curious attitude disappeared to be replaced with anger and disgust. The warm chocolate brown eyes turned hard and black, "Derek would never turn me, not when he has so many other, _better_ candidates." Something twitched in Peter's hand. Looking down he noticed that he Stiles still had it imprisoned, fingers grasping so tight that his knuckles were white, "Ever since I was attacked I've been nothing to Derek. He doesn't care about me, none of the pack does." The young teen spit the word "pack" out like a bad slice of pizza.

Sensing that the boy was on the verge of snapping Peter leaned forward and touched their foreheads together, "I don't believe that Stiles, and I don't think you do either."

He knew he was right when the boy sighed wetly, "I know, but it still hurts." Stiles dropped his eyes from the Alpha's, "I just want to help them. I know I can, I am not as useless." The last bit was said with such conviction that Peter felt the corner of his mouth lifting, "They never even told me about any of this, I figured it out for myself. I'm not an idiot."

At this last statement Stiles suddenly deflated as though he were exceptionally tired. He laid his head on the Alpha's knee, involuntarily mirroring Derek's earlier position from that day three months ago, silent tears making the fabric wet.

Hearing a noise from the doorway Peter looked up. Derek stood in the doorway panting. Peter could tell right away that his nephew had heard most, if not all, of the conversation between the two occupants. His green eyes were wide and filled with a pain that only a mate could feel when its other half was in pain. There was also an underlying tone of worry. Peter raised his eyebrow at his nephew.

Derek whimpered softly. Too softly for the sobbing boy to hear.

The Alpha watched his nephew carefully as he carded his fingers through what little hair the boy had. The Beta made to step forward but stopped when Stiles started talking again, "I don't understand, what more do I have to do? I mean Allison and Lydia aren't wolves either, but…." He swallowed, "why are they so much better than me?"

Derek whimpered louder this time.

"I just…I just don't want to wake up one day and find out that the pack decided that I am just a loose end. Especially Derek. I don't think I could handle that...especially since…" Here Stiles stopped, but Peter already knew what he was going to say. He could smell it on him.

All at once everything made sense. Why Derek didn't want to talk about the young boy before him, why a member of the pack, and Derek's mate, was being kept out of the loop, and why the boy had come alone to the hospital. If Peter was right about the situation Stiles would have had a body guard on him at all times.

Yet somehow he still managed to make it here.

That must have been why Derek looked so flustered. In fact, he looked like he had just rolled out of bed. His clothes were ruffled and his shirt was inside out, claw marks down one side. His trademark leather jacket was gone, presumably left behind in his haste and pants had one long rip in them. Right now he looked like he was about to start sobbing. Peter turned his attention back to the boy.

"Stiles, have you ever thought that they are just trying to protect you."

Stiles barked out a laugh. Derek flinched at the noise.

"If they wanted to protect me so bad then they could do it without shutting me out completely. I bet they don't even know I'm not there; it was so easy to slip pass them." He shifted slightly, "I just don't know what to do. Please tell me."

Derek answered for Peter when he finally decided he had had enough of watching his mate suffer. Walking up to the boy the Beta scooped him up, earning a high pitch squeak in response, and held him close. Nodding once to his Uncle Derek turned and left.

Stiles didn't say anything as he was basically bridal carried out of the hospital. In fact, he looped his arms around the older boy's neck and buried his head in the muscular chest.

Peter stared after them for a moment before smiling knowingly.

He took back what he said about Lydia. _This_ one, this _boy_ would make an excellent Alpha Female.


	5. Something Lost

**Part one of a two shot.**

**Movieverse with the slight addition of a very minor OC**

* * *

><p>Stiles knew.<p>

He knew the moment she had come into their lives what she was. He knew it the moment he saw her, and when Derek, who had had his back to her, stopped right in the middle of telling him to shut up to turn and look at her.

She was very pretty.

Tall with long, dark hair and a slightly sun kissed complexion. Forest green eyes to match Derek's own. A soft smile.

She had one almost everyone over with just a look. Everyone but Stiles.

She was also wild. A lone wolf from Washington in search of a home. But she was also kind, light hearted, funny, interesting, and, above all, a girl.

So yeah, Stiles had knew. He had known the moment she stepped into the clearing in front of the Hale house what she was and what she would become to them.

So he had put on a smile and the mask of friendliness and had greeted her along with the others.

After all, a pack needs to stick together right?

The moment Stiles knew he wasn't going to be able to handle it was when he saw Derek kiss her for the first time.

The Alpha had been timid to say the least, but she had simply smiled her smile and he had melted.

Stiles had never seen him so happy.

That was the day his words were snatched away.

He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. He just stood there watching as she pulled Derek close and he wrapped his arms around her.

He thinks he must have blanked out because the next thing he knew he was at home, curled into a ball under his bed like he used to do when he was little and his mom was still alive.

He really shouldn't have done that though.

Wood and salt water don't mix very well.

He wasn't overly surprised when Derek announced that he and she were going to be mates.

Stiles tried to smile and put on the face of happiness, but he got out of there as soon as he could because he was sure he failed miserably.

That was when The Empty made itself known to him.

The Empty had started off small. A little pip in his stomach that made him feel nauseous all the time like a case of indefinite food poisoning. But over time The Empty had grown.

It was now large enough to have eaten his stomach, heart, and lungs and to leave them all nothing more than a dissolved puddle of pain.

The others seemed to have noticed now.

He was no longer going to pack meeting regularly and when he did he wouldn't spew his usual amount of word vomit nor would he eat. There were dark circles under his eyes from nearly a week without sleep. His eyes no longer had that same spark of life they did six months ago, before she came.

They tried to talk to him, to help him, but all their conversations kept coming around to _her_.

How happy they were to have her around.

How happy she made them and Derek.

How they were all going to be a family and how everything was finally going to be perfect.

How she and Derek were going to have such beautiful pups.

It was this last part of the conversation that always made Stiles run to the bathroom to dry heave viciously into the toilet.

The day of the mating between Derek and his chosen mate was the day Stiles left Beacon Hillls.

It was like pulling off a band aid.

Painful at first, but better in the long run.

His father wouldn't have to worry about him anymore and could move on with his life.

The pack wouldn't have to be annoyed or burdened with him or his antics.

And Derek….Derek….Derek would be happy.

Derek wouldn't be grumpy anymore.

Derek would be able to rebuild the family he had lost.

Without Stiles getting in the way.

Without…..him.

Stiles tried to laugh. It wasn't like he had never been alone before. He would survive this. He would make it out of this alive just like he always did.

He would move on.

He would drive that last remaining mile out of California and begin a new life for himself.

Just as soon as he could blink the clouds out of his eyes.

Three hours later he was still in Cali.

Pulled over on the side of the rode, car abandoned, sitting next to a tree on the side of the rode, head in his hands.

Those stupid clouds wouldn't go away.

The moon was full above him and the stars seemed abnormally bright.

He hated it.

He hated how he couldn't make himself move. How he couldn't seem to go that one last goddamn mile.

It was all he wanted now. Just to run away.

But his stupid head kept going back to Derek, the pack (which he had long ago consented was no longer his) and his father. But mostly Derek.

It hurt deeply that the dark haired man had found someone.

Someone that wasn't him.

He wasn't aware that he was calling for the older man. He was in too much pain.

He was so caught in it he didn't feel the voices calling to him. Didn't notice the people surrounding him, each with looks of worry and pain upon their faces. Didn't notice the object of his pain crouching down beside him.

He did, however, feel warm arms wrapping around him to pull him into the warm solid flesh of Derek's chest.

This made Stiles sob harder.

It wasn't fair.

_What's not fair Stiles?_

It wasn't fair that Derek was there, that he had to be tortured even now by him.

The warmth pulled him in tighter.

_Why do you think I'm torturing you?_

Because he chose her. He chose her when Stiles had been right there all along. Right there and willing to give his love to Derek and his pack. Willing to give whatever was left of him to the people that mattered to him. But it was too late for that now. He had waited too long and now he had nothing.

_Oh Stiles._

All at once he was surrounded by a wall of warmth.

_I'm sorry Stiles, so so sorry._


	6. Something Found

**Sequel to Something Lost**

**I apologize for my shitty uploading, but I swear I am working on my other stories so please be patient.**

**Be sure to leave any suggestions on things you might want to see ;)**

The sun was warming his face.

That was the first thought to enter Stiles' mind as it floated up from the depths of unconsciousness.

The second was a reminder of how shitty he felt.

He was exhausted. His throat was raw and his eyes were throbbing in their sockets. He could tell just by the way his body felt stiff and lightly sheened with sweat that he had slept in his clothes last night, and the beginnings of a headache were forming.

But he couldn't bring himself to be upset.

Not yet anyway.

The real test would come when he actually managed to get his eyes unglued and have a look at where he was, but, if the smell was any indication, he already knew where he was.

He tried to squash the little bubble of joy that was threatening to travel up his throat and out of his mouth it what most certainly would be, what Scott called, a war cry. Instead, he took a deep breath through his mouth, fisted his hands tightly in the sheets, and wrenched his eyes open in one swift movement.

The ceiling was burnt.

The sunbeam that had been warming his face was coming through an open patch within the blackened mess of wood. Ash and dust clung to the light rays and seemed to follow his gaze around the dark and desolate room. Everything was burnt, almost to a crisp, and in varying degrees of decay. The windows were boarded up and the dark red curtains hung in taters from their banisters. Books were scattered around the room in piles (although most were burnt beyond recognition, much to Stiles' chagrin) covered by layer upon layer of dust. The bed he lay on was nothing more than a mattress on the floor luckily enough, covered by clean sheets and a deep black comforter.

It was dark and sad and depressing in this shrine of death and decay.

And Stiles had never felt happier.

The bubble inside of him exploded with a force unlike anything he had ever experience before, but he didn't care. He was too busy rolling around inside his blankets to notice.

There was a loud crash as the door was literally thrown off its hinges. All at once, the comforter was ripped off of Stiles' body only to be replaced by something warmer and heavier. Lips attached themselves to his in a manner more possessive than anything the teen had ever experienced before and the tongue that was shoved down his throat nearly gaged him.

Hands stronger then steal gripped his body and dragged him flush against the wall of pure muscle that was Derek. Stiles, from nearly a year of living amongst the wolf pack, reacted much faster to this sudden oral assault than that of a normal human. Bringing his hands up to dig his fingers into the older boy's shoulders Stiles arched himself into Derek greedily pulling as much as he could out of his werewolf blanket. Derek whined happily as Stiles' legs spread allowing the wolf to climb inside and press himself fully against his true mate. He rolled his hips. Stiles gasped into his mouth and, by sheer force of will, wrenched their mouths apart and turned his head submissively.

Derek wasted no time in attacking the younger's neck. As he bit and sucked and licked Derek let his left hand travel down his mate's side and over his denim (goddam clothes) ass to massage his thigh. Stiles whimpered and cried out deliciously.

"Der…Derek."

"Don't you dare Stiles," Derek snarled against the soft pale skin, his fangs merely a hairs breadth away from piercing that wonderful skin. He thrust hard against his mate, "Don't you dare"-another thrust-"make me"-another bite, the lapping of blood and another thrust-"have to do that"-_harder, harder_-"ever again!" Teeth sharper then knives slid into the younger boy's body. Said younger boy howled in pleasure and came violently before sinking his own, regrettably human teeth, into the warm, muscular shoulder.

The Alpha's howl soon followed as he too came at the feel of his mate coming undone. Then he collapsed.

They stayed like that for a while, both trying to simultaneously catch their breath and pull each other closer.

Stiles felt he mate shiver as he lazily began to drag his tongue over the spot he had just bitten. He was surprised to find blood there.

"So." he tried to speak but his throat caught. Clearing it he tried again, "So, did I do good?"

If it was possible, Derek pulled him closer. Nuzzling his nose deep into Stiles' neck Derek mumbled almost incoherently, "You know you did."

Stiles chuckled, pressing his lips to Derek's ear he whispered seductively, "Tell me anyway."

"She was arrested the day you tried to….leave," even muffled, Stiles could hear Derek's voice crack as he forced the last bit out. Guilt settled into his stomach and he pulled his mate closer, Derek gently thrust against him in comfort, "she tried to put up a fight, but we were able to subdue her and she is now in custody…or rather she is imprisoned."

"What's the difference?"

"Well, according to the official record, she died in a standoff against you father. But she fell off a cliff after he shot her and before we could recover the body it was dragged off by a mountain lion. We have yet to find her body."

"Hmmmm." Stiles hummed happily, "I guess we won't be seeing her anytime soon then?"

Instead of answering Derek began rutting against him again, slow and steady, which should have been uncomfortable considering they both had rapidly drying cum still in their pants, but neither seemed to care. Stiles moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow.

Derek took the opportunity to slide his lips up and down the red dotted expanse, "Now I've got a question for you."

All Stiles could do was hum in question. He whined quite loudly when those blessed lips removed themselves from his neck. He did so even louder when Derek raised himself half off his lover so that he could look him straight in the beautiful brown eyes. The older boy pulled back when Stiles tried to connect them again and chuckled at his pout.

Stiles huffed before falling back on the pillow in acquiesce. Even the rutting had stopped. Fucking werewolves and their fucking control issues. There was another chuckle and a swift peck of lips on his and then Derek became serious once again. A confused frown settled on his features, cocking his head to the side he asked the question that had been on his mind since the beginning of this horrible ordeal, "Where did you learn to act like that."

Soft pale hands trailed from Derek's shoulders to tangle in his raven black hair, "I took some drama classes when I was a kid, before I moved here, and even though it has been a long time since I have done anything like that I still remember the most important lesson of acting."

Derek's frown deepened, "And what is that?"

"To play any part convincingly, you have to believe in it. If you allow yourself to slip even a little before the time is right your performance will come off as sloppy and forced."

Lips were on his again. They moved with the burn of a sudden passion before retreating again.

"So you forced yourself to believe those things in order to help us stop her." I wasn't a question

"It was easier this way."

"Easier!" Derek snorted, "You have no idea how much it broke our hearts, how much it broke _my_ heart, to watch you suffer like that. And then you left and I could hear you crying and to see you so broken and small….God don't make me do something like that again, please."

A small, sad smile played on Stiles' lips and he moved one of his hands from Derek's hair to his cheek, looking his mate straight in the eye he whispered, "I promise."

Derek let out a lungful of air he hadn't realized he was holding. Placing his forehead back against his mate's Derek allowed himself the first real smile in six months, "Good."

A sudden loud growling sound destroyed the serenity.

Stiles' face turned a shade of red that shouldn't have been possible for anyone that wasn't atrociously sunburned, Derek just raised an eyebrow.

"Um," big brown eyes quickly turned to look at the bed beneath them, "as much as I don't want to I, um, haven't really eaten for a while and well and kind of hungry, so, um, if we could get some food and continue this later? Maybe? Please?"

A full-fledged laugh echoed throughout the room. Lowering himself down again Derek brushed his nose against Stiles' cheek, "Anything you want love, anything at all."


	7. Raven

**Sorry this one is a little short, but I wanted to set up the circumstances for the second part.**

**Movieverse, but with the slight addition of a winged Stiles**

Branches slapped his face as he ran.

Not that he really cared. He was too worried about getting away.

Glancing over his shoulder he tried to see his attackers, but all he saw were the blurs of trees and the occasional flash of black.

He had been running for what felt like miles, full force, and his legs were about to give out. But one look behind him told him that he had put absolutely no distance between himself and his attackers.

"Stiles! Look out!" A voice suddenly shouted from off to his right. Said boy turned around just in time to see the cliff coming upon rather quickly. A cliff that Stiles knew dropped off at least a good fifty feet into a ravine.

It was too late to stop.

There really wasn't much of a choice now.

Putting on an extra burst of speed, a seemingly impossible task considering he was already going full boar, Stiles angled himself through the trees so he wouldn't hit anything. Ignoring the calls of fear from behind him he made his way straight toward the edge of the cliff. Reaching deep inside himself Stiles felt his power filling up his body. His shoulders began to tingle.

His foot hit the side of the cliff.

Using the momentum from his run Stiles pushed himself off.

The pack's terrified screams followed him as he lifted up a few feet before he began to fall. The one that came through the clearest was Derek's. And Stiles would have felt bad if not for the fact that he really had to concentrate.

Flipping himself over so that his head was facing down Stiles allowed his power to rip forth. He had a fleeting thought of how he had ruined yet another good shirt as the back exploded in an array of torn fabric and feathers. Pain tore along his spine but Stiles pushed it to the back of his mind. Unfurling his wings to their full length Stiles felt them catch the wind a mere twenty feet from the ground. His upper body jerked rather violently from its downward momentum while his legs continued down.

As much as he loved flying Stiles couldn't help but think that people glorified what those with wings were actually capable of as his own feathery appendages were nearly ripped from his shoulder from the force. As it was his wings, though strong, _did_ collapse from the sudden onslaught and Stiles dropped the last eight feet to the ground. He was forced to pull his wings tight to his body to avoid clipping them on the trees. Feet hit the solid ground sending a shock straight through his body.

Since he had slowed down a lot from the resistance his wings he didn't break anything, but his shoulders burned and he knew that his knees would be throbbing later. He was alive though so that was something.

He didn't get a chance to catch his breath when a loud series of crashes followed by a crunching thud sounded from behind him.

Pulling his wings tight to his body Stiles turned around. Once again it was too late.

Derek's pale green eyes were wide and awe filled.

For a second he just stood there staring.

From up above Stiles could hear the sound of the others calling down to their Alpha asking if he was alright.

Derek ignored them and continued to stare at the boy in front of him. Stiles shifted uncomfortably. This seemed to shake Derek out of his stupor.

The wolf drew in a breath, "Yetl*."

Stiles swallowed thickly pulling his wings closer to his body. Derek's hand twitched and he took a half step forward as though he wanted the boy to keep his wings out a little longer. Said boy relaxed a little, but kept his wings in.

"How long?"

"All my life, I got it from my mother."

"Why….?"

"Hunters." Derek's eyes narrowed.

"So they've taken to hunting others now too." He snarled low in his throat, "Where they the ones who killed your mother?"

Stiles whimpered softly, his wings fell slightly, and he nodded. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and turned away from the wolf.

There was a moment of silence, "Sorry." Derek gruffed out. The younger boy merely nodded once.

"Scott doesn't know," he piped up suddenly desperate to change the subject, "neither does my dad. I'd like to keep it that way."

Cocking his head to the side almost like a puppy, not that Stiles would ever tell him that, and opened his mouth to say something but seemed to decide against it. Instead he took off his jacket and thrust it at the younger boy.

Raising an eyebrow Stiles took the jacket and slipped it on. It didn't cover his wings completely, but it would hide them long enough for him to pull them back in.

Just then his phone rang. He didn't need to take it out to know who it was.

Derek huffed, "Well then fly-boy, let's get you back to the pack before they come down here." He turned began to walk away.

Stiles let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and followed after the stoic wolf all the while snuggling just a little further into the oversized jacket.

**Like I said before, kinda short but necessary for a later chapter**

***Yetl is another word for Raven in Native American folklore**

**As always let me know how I did. All my stuff is unbetaed (unless you count me doing it myself) so feedback is really helpful.**


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